


RPF: An Unlikely Friendship

by koalathebear



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter RPF
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion piece to my HP SPECULATIVE FICTION <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/309180/chapters/494876">The Boy Who Died</a>.  Totally not based in reality, I know nothing about the actors in real life, I just wanted to play around at how a Cedric/Hermione fic might have come to have been written.  I don't want to lock this fic because it's inconvenient to play with filters but if you have violent moral, ethical, philosophical objections to RPF - I suggest you don't read this.</p><p>It is G-rated though and I think completely innocuous :) I'm just a bit playful sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	RPF: An Unlikely Friendship

  


"Bags the red sofa!" Emma exclaimed as they entered the small VIP sitting room that was put aside for them while they were waiting around for the others to finish their endless interviews.

"No way, I want that one - you can take the green one!" Robert exclaimed.

Emma gave him a look. "Who thinks he's the bee's knees now just because he's the latest heart-throb of the moment?"

"Ah don't be such a cow. Come on, I don't think I've had any quiet time all day! I'm knackered!"

Emma laughed. "Diddums. All right, you get the red one but only because you rescued me from that awful Italian journalist today - I think I'll have the bruises on my arm for the rest of my life".

"Remind me not to run intervention again," Robert said ruefully as he threw himself down on the red sofa, arms and legs sprawled out untidily as he closed his eyes. "She turned on _me_ instead!"

Emma threw herself on the green sofa, a little more tidily but no less wearily.

"Where are the others?"

"Don't know, don't care," Robert muttered. "If yet another person bloody asks me 'boxers or briefs' I am going to _completely_ lose it," he said with genuine irritation.

"Oh they always ask the boys that," Emma said with a laugh. "Dan and Rupert have been asked that question more times than you can count".

"I'm thinking of having a t-shirt printed that says _Neither thank you very much now sod off_ ".

"Now play nice," she told him, laughing a little as she closed her eyes, hoping that they would be given some time to have a nap before the next round of interviews.

  


"How many times have we seen the movie now, d'you think?" He mumbled.

"Not sure. I've lost track of the premieres and special screenings - getting sick of dying, are we?" she asked.

He laughed. "No. It's worth it just to see you cry".

"I only cried the first time," she told him loftily, not opening her eyes but laughing in amusement.

"Twice - once in Tokyo ... and I'm pretty sure I saw you cry at the first premiere, too!"

"So I'm a sap," she told him.

There was a moment's quiet but neither fell asleep. "Shame really that C & H never got a chance to get together," Robert commented.

"Get together?" Emma demanded incredulously, eyes opening. "In the books they never even exchanged two words, as far as I know," she told him.

"That doesn't mean anything! I mean, they could have been good together. They could have been great together," he teased her.

"What a shame we'll never know," Emma said ironically.

"So you don't think it would have worked?"

"Not at all, and clearly being hung over has given you brain damage".

"I'm not that hung over," he protested.

"So what was the whole, 'Emma be a love and get me something for my head, it's bloody killing me?'" she asked sweetly.

Robert laughed. "Cut me some slack, I mean - I did die and what an ignominious death. Some might say having Ralph Fiennes' foot on your face _post mortem_ is something to which everyone should aspire - but I'll pass".

"It was a rubber foot, get over it," Emma said, still laughing. "And you can't complain - you got so many dramatic and heroic shots in the movie it's no wonder everyone's scrambling to get your autograph. You now have thousands of girls the world over drooling over your tragic visage - in particular that bluish one where you're putting your name in the goblet? No pity from me," she said with a smirk.

"I suffered a lot you know ...."

"Yeah yeah I've heard it. I do sit in on your interviews, you know? The maze, scary and vicious. The underwater stuff blah blah".

"You want me to start quoting your interviews back at you, Em?"

"God don't start calling me Em again, _Bobby_ ". He laughed.

"You should feel sorry for me, it was a lot of hard work."

"In your own words, it was sort of relaxing. You said you felt like a therapist, because while everyone's gabbing on you were just lying around doing nothing ... well until you got Ralph Fiennes' foot on your face. Nice job not blinking".

"Yeah thanks," Robert said appreciatively. "Little witch".

Emma laughed and stretched out.

  


"So you think H would never have gone for C, do you?" he asked after a moment's silence.

"God are you _still_ going on about that rubbish?" Emma demanded. Robert laughed.

"Hermione probably fancied Cedric like all the girls did - after all what's not to like? He was cute, smart, good at sport, fair. I don't think he would have looked twice at Hermione though," Emma told him.

"What are you talking about? H is a top girl! I'm not a big fan of the ball gown look though," he said.

"What?" Emma demanded, sitting upright and glaring at him.

Robert propped himself up on one elbow. "That woke you up, didn't it. Just saying that you look better in your everyday gear. In the school outfit, in jeans .... not all tarted up in fancy dresses with that gunk on your face".

Emma's face twisted as if she didn't know whether to be flattered or infuriated.

"Go flirt with or insult someone else," Emma said finally, toppling back onto the sofa and Robert laughed.

"Now the first time they would have spoken would have been when they met up to go to the Quidditch World Cup ..."

"Yeah? And then?" Emma asked, humouring him.

"No doubt they would have bumped into each other at school. Glances, occasional conversations. Maybe they would have even exchanged words after the first two challenges".

"What about Cho?"

"Cedric would have realised after a while that his heart really belonged to the brainy bookish one," Robert mused, putting his hands behind his head and imagining the scenario.

"Really now. Have you told Katie?"

"She's already moved on, I'm dead after all," Robert said and Emma laughed.

"Then what?" she asked, more entertained than she cared to let on by his flights of fancy.

"Well, in the book the second challenge is in February the last fatal challenge is at the end of June. Heaps of time for these two to get to know one another before I kark it".

"In the library, I suppose".

"Exactly! In the library," Robert said emphatically. "Hey, where are you going?" Robert demanded as Emma swung her legs off the couch and walked out of the room. "I was just kidding!" he called out after her.

  


She returned a few moments later with a notebook bag swung over one shoulder. She pulled it out, plugged it in and power it on. "What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"It seems a shame that brilliant idea will never be brought to life, the least you can do is write it down for posterity," she said grinning wickedly.

He laughed. "Now you're just being mean".

He grinned when he saw her desktop. Unlike other people who saved their files all over the desktop, Emma had hers arranged neatly by directory.

She created a new directory.

" _Stories by A Hungover Robert_ " he read out loud. "Ta muchly, Em," he said sarcastically.

Emma closed her eyes for a moment and then started typing into Word. Robert peered over her shoulder. "Nah, he'd never call her Hermione like that," he said.

"There's no way he'd call her H either," Emma said scathingly.

"Granger then," he suggested.

"That's such a boy thing to do ..."

"Well our Ced's a boy after all," Robert pointed out and Emma typed away. She was a good typist. All three principal actors brought their notebooks with them wherever they went in order to access teaching materials and send essays back to their teachers for marking.

"Well I've started it for you," Emma said with a yawn. "Quidditch World Cup - just like you said," she told him and then went and stretched out on the sofa again.

Robert sat down and looked through it, grinning to himself. "Do you seriously expect to pass English with grammar like that?" he teased her.

"Oh bugger off," she said and drifted off to sleep as Robert sat at her computer. A little while later, Robert glanced up. Emma was fast asleep and half falling off the sofa, her head sliding towards the ground. A faintly amused smile curved his mouth and he walked over and gently lifted her back up onto the sofa, settling her down so that she was more centred on the sofa. He smiled down at her sleeping face, touching her cheek lightly with a fingertip before returning to the notebook where he continued to type.

***

  


  


Emma yawned and stretched glancing around sleepily. She blinked to focus her eyes and saw that Robert was still sitting at the desk but slumped over it - fast asleep. His long legs were stretched out before him and he looked extremely uncomfortable. Shaking her head she laughed softly but then noticed that her notebook was still on. Walking over, she frowned down at the screen. Her eyes widened. He hadn't been kidding around. Robert had been a busy boy.

She slid the notebook away from him and then sat down, scrolling to the beginning and began to read. He hadn't changed her introductory paragraphs but he had added more, much much more.

***

Robert awoke to the sound of soft sniffles. He glanced around and stared in horrified surprise at Emma who was sitting at her computer, tapping away softly at the keys and openly crying.

"What the _hell_?" he demanded in disbelief. She looked up at him, eyes drenched with tears, her nose red.

"You made it so sad," she told him, wiping her eyes on her hanky.

"Well _Goblet of Fire_ was already sad," he said with a laugh. "The death of me is always bound to be sad - especially for _me_ ," he said trying to make an effort at joking. "Sorry .... look don't read it if it's going to make you cry. In fact, what are you doing???"

"I'm finishing it," she told him as if he was an idiot.

"I already finished it!" he exclaimed in outrage.

"You ended it at the Cedric Memorial Service ... there's more," she told him.

"There is?"

He came over and sat next to her and stared down at the screen at the words she had typed, the thoughts in Hermione's head, the train station, kissing Harry goodbye, Hermione with her parents, Hermione alone in her room. Hermione grieving.

" _Hermione wept long and hard, weeping for the boy who had been and the young man who would never be_ ," Robert read aloud. "Bloody hell, how maudlin is that? Now who's making it sad?" he demanded, feeling ridiculously depressed himself now.

That made Emma laugh and she gave him a shove with her shoulder.

"Typo," he said pointing at the final paragraph.

"You know, I notice that despite all your going on about how he'd call her Granger ... he calls her Hermione in their final library moment together," Emma commented, not looking at him.

"Well spotted," Robert said lightly, also not looking at Emma.

There was a long silence and then Emma said. "There's something else, Robert ...."

Robert turned and looked at her quizzically. They were sitting very close to one another and had moved even closer without realising it, bodies pressed against one another. Her dark eyes were staring up into his. He wasn't quite sure at what point he had started loving the way her nose crinkled when she laughed. She wasn't the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was all arms and legs, a coltish creature with her decided, stubborn little chin and dark eyes.

"What else?" he asked her.

"Sometimes you .. ummm, Cedric ... calls Hermione ... Emma ...." she told him.

He froze. The expression on his face made her stare. He made a sudden movement towards the computer.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm deleting the story, it's stupid!" he said abruptly.

He looked down in shock, she had caught his hands in hers and was gripping them in hers to prevent him from accessing the computer.

"What are _you_ doing?"

"You're not deleting our story," she told him bluntly. They stared into each other's eyes, breathing a little unsteady, gazes very hesitant.

"Ummmm .... am I interrupting something here, guys?" Daniel asked curiously from the doorway.

Two embarrassed faces turned towards him. Daniel looked at how closely they were sitting next to one another, at their clasped hands.

"Robert was just helping me with my homework," Emma said lamely.

"Right," Daniel said as Robert nodded emphatically even though he and Emma still appeared to be holding hands.

"We're all done and we're heading off .... you can come with us ... or not," Daniel said, looking back down again at their hands. He grinned and then left.

"Oh god what must he think?" Emma breathed in embarrassment.

Robert looked down, she was still holding his hands. She looked down and hastily released them as if he was on fire and he laughed despite himself.

"Since you won't let me delete the story, it'd better have a title .... What do you want to call the story?" he asked her.

"Strange and Wacky Imaginings?" She suggested. He shook his head. "Unlikely friends? An Unlikely friendship?"

Robert turned from her and she looked at the screen as he typed.

 _"The Boy Who Died"._

Emma glanced up at him sharply. His face was very serious as he stared back at her.

Emma exhaled and then hit save.

He helped her pack up her computer, reaching down to unplug the cord, winding it up so that she could place it back into her bag. Their hands brushed against one another and before he knew what he was doing, he had caught her hand in his.

"Em ..." She didn't pull away but left her hand in his, her dark eyes very questioning.

"If I promised never to get smashed at a party again," she rolled her eyes in disbelief. He stopped and started again. "Do you think H would ever go for someone ... like me ... if I was more like Cedric?"

Emma reached up and touched his jaw lightly. "I can't speak for Hermione, but I think you're fine the way you are ..."

His hand moved to cover hers and hold it against his cheek. He turned his face so that he could kiss her hand.

"I wish you weren't so damned young," he said in a low voice.

Unlike Hermione and Cedric, the difference was greater here. 15. She was only 15 to his 19 and the difference seemed like a million years.

"I'm mature for my age," she told him, slanting a smile up at him but her lashes lowered. Still, what he said was true and she didn't want to be a toy for him, a momentary diversion and then discarded. She knew that the two of them weren't a possibility. Not at this point in time anyway.

"Em ... there was a reason why I accidentally used your name in the story," he told her. "These few months ..."

"I know ..." she told him, putting her fingers to his lips to stop him saying anything. She smiled, a bittersweet smile.

"Wait for me ..." she told him. "And in the meanwhile I want you to write me another story .... this time with a happy ending ...."

  
**The End**   


  


  



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